


A Matter of Trust

by TeekiJane



Series: The Boys of Summer [20]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeekiJane/pseuds/TeekiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Jordan was lying exactly. But that doesn't mean Haley sees it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Trust

_I know you’re an emotional girl_  
_It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world_  
_I can’t offer you proof_  
_But you’re going to face a moment of truth_  
Billy Joel, Matter of Trust

Jordan

I can’t explain what it is, but something about walking into Kitchen & Bath gives me the creeps. 

It’s not that most of the employees are women, or even that the store is full of giggling brides registering for china patterns and choosing color schemes. Unlike Adam, I _want_ to get married someday, put together a home and have a couple kids. I think my apprehension is closer to the fact that I’ve heard so many stories about some of the employees that I was afraid to say something that might give away what Haley and Byron had been saying about them. 

As goofy as it sounds, I actually stood outside the doors and took a couple deep breaths before I braved going in. Just as I thought I might be able to handle going inside, Jeff came out. He was wearing a lightweight jacket with the collar turned up—it was at least ninety out—and his head was down, but it was definitely him. I sighed in relief at seeing a familiar face. “Yo, Schafer!” I called as he walked down the sidewalk toward the next store. 

Even though I know he had to have heard me, he didn’t even look up; he just got into the car with his stepdad. I stood there gaping as they drove off. What the fuck was the matter with him these days? No wonder Byron had been moping around the house like the weight of the world was on his shoulders recently. 

After that little snub, I figured I could handle just about anything—even the giggling brides. I squared my shoulders and walked inside the store. It was Tuesday, just before rush hour, so not exactly their busiest time. Haley was scheduled off in about twenty minutes, but I wanted to catch her while she was still on the clock so she didn’t slip by me unseen. I wanted to surprise her. Tips had been good the last week or so, and I wanted to take her somewhere nice for dinner. I’d even dressed up—Byron had loaned me a pair of khakis and I’d found an unworn button down shirt in the back of my closet. Hell, I’d even ironed. 

The china department that is Haley’s home base was in the back of the store. I didn’t really look at the merchandise as I walked back there. Mom was going to bring Adam and me back here tomorrow to do college shopping. I had a feeling she would want to look in every department. I didn’t see what the fuss was—get me some sheets, a blanket, a couple towels and some way to feed myself and I’d be set. 

The china caught my attention though. In a family with eight kids, we use plastic dishes most of the time. I don’t think I’d ever seen fancy china before. The first set I saw cost almost one hundred fifty dollars for one person to eat. I don’t think all the dishes in my house would add up to that much money. 

I must have looked really out of place because nearly the second I set foot into the department, a snooty looking woman swarmed on me. She was middle aged and had blonde hair that had to be dyed that way—no one’s hair is naturally that shade. I knew who she was before she even got close enough for me to read her nametag. So this was the infamous Joanie. “Are you shopping for a wedding gift, or are you looking to register today?” she asked. 

“No thank you,” I said politely. 

Joanie took a real look at me and did a double take. She went to say something but shook her head. “You must be Byron’s brother,” she said finally. 

I always forget that not everyone knows that I’m a triplet. Just about everyone important in my life knows, and while it’s not one of the first things I usually tell new people, it usually comes out before too long. Either Byron didn’t feel the same way about it, or he just hadn’t had occasion to talk to Joanie enough to mention it. If it was the second, I really didn’t blame him. “I guess I must,” I replied. 

She gave me an odd look. “If you’re looking for him, he works up front,” she said. “However, I don’t believe he’s here today.” 

I shook my head. “I’m not looking for him. Is Haley working?” It was a stupid question because I knew she was there. Her car was outside and she always tells me her work schedule. 

Joanie paused. “Is that H-a-y-l-e-i-g-h or H-a-i-l-e-e?” she asked. 

What the hell? “Neither. H-a-l-e-y.” 

She looked confused. “I don’t believe we have a Haley with that spelling.” 

It was my turn to be confused. I thought for a moment about it and had a revelation. “I think you’d know her as Hay,” I finally said.

“Oh, Hay,” Joanie said. “I sent her to clean some shelves. She should be in duvets.” 

There wasn’t exactly a map of the store in front of me. “And where would that be?” 

She sighed. “Go straight down this aisle and it’s on your right. There’s a sign.” 

Those weren’t the most helpful directions ever, and then when I finally found duvets, Haley wasn’t even there. I wandered around for a little while before I found her sitting on the floor in the sheet room, surrounded by satin sheets. She was wearing her pinstriped “work pants” with a really pretty lavender button-down shirt I’d never seen before. Most of her shirts are brighter colors—primaries and bright pinks and purples—and this made her look older. She’d also pulled her hair out of her eyes to one side in a clip with a metal rose on it. “Hey,” I called from the main aisle. 

She looked up sharply and I could tell I had surprised her after all. “What are you doing here?” she asked me. She sounded a little disgruntled. 

I ignored the tone. “Looking for you. What are you doing?” 

She held up a spray bottle and some filthy paper towels. “Cleaning the shelves,” she said in a monotone. 

I looked at the towels she was using as she went back to scrubbing. “I’m not sure how clean those shelves are coming if your paper towels are that dirty,” I observed. 

“Hmm,” Haley said as she did one last swipe. She turned her eyes up to me and they looked sad. “What did you want, Jordan?” she asked. 

I was back to feeling confused. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was mad at me. “I wanted to take you out to dinner,” I told her. 

She shook her head slowly. “I’m not feeling up to it today,” she said. She tossed her rag down and began putting sheets back on the shelf, using the actions as an excuse to break eye contact. 

Something must be very off if she was turning down an offer of free food. “What’s the matter?” I asked, squatting down beside her. 

Haley pulled more sheets off the next shelf and answered without looking back at me. “Nothing. I’m just tired and dirty and have a headache. I don’t feel like going out to eat.” 

I stood up and took a step back, looking her over. She glanced over at me warily. I could tell just from the way she was holding herself—she’d purposely turned her back toward me so that she was looking over her shoulder—that there was more going on than she was letting on. She only does that when she’s trying to protect herself from something. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell,” I told her. She didn’t reply. “You told me once,” I said slowly, “to never lie to you because you’d always know.”

Something flashed across her eyes and then it was gone. She grabbed a roll of paper towels and ripped off a few fresh ones savagely, tearing across the towel instead of on the perforations. “Well, it definitely didn’t stop you, did it?” she asked quietly as she picked up her spray bottle. 

Okaaaay. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I stopped and ran through our recent conversations and found nothing that could be construed as a lie. I’d worked a double at the Rosebud yesterday, so we hadn’t spoken. And Sunday had been absolutely amazing. I’d had her all to myself all morning and afternoon. She’d been all smiles when I’d left her. “What does that mean?” I finally asked. 

Haley sighed and started wiping down the shelf. “Go home, Jordan,” she said, not answering my question. “I’m supposed to be working. I have to finish this whole row before I can leave. I’ll talk to you later.” With that she got up on her knees and turned her back to me entirely, letting me know the conversation was over whether I liked it or not. And it was definitely a ‘not.’ 

What’s a guy supposed to do, though? I watched her for a moment more, suddenly feeling incredibly sad. I walked back up the aisle—in the opposite direction from the way I’d come in—and got back in the car. As I started the engine, I could feel frustrated tears burning my eyes, but I pushed them back down. Unlike a certain brother of mine, I try to keep that kind of thing private. 

I’m surprised I didn’t get a speeding ticket on the way home. I can’t say how fast I was driving, but I got home a lot quicker than I got to Stoneybrook Corners in the first place. I parked the car in its usual spot and headed into the kitchen. Mom was in there alone, making dinner. She frowned at me. “I thought you were taking Haley out for a night on the town,” she said. 

“I thought so, too.” 

Mom winced on my behalf. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Want to tell me about it?” 

“I would,” I said as I opened the fridge, pulling out a container of orange juice, “if I knew what the matter was. I think she’s mad at me, but I don’t know why.” 

Mom nodded sympathetically. “Well, you know about girls, Jordan. They don’t process information the same way guys do. You could have said or done something you thought was totally innocent, and she could have taken it in a completely different way than it was intended.” I opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass, and she gestured at me to grab another for her. “Take Vanessa, for example,” Mom said. 

I poured two glasses of juice. “Do I have to?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. 

Mom swatted me with her spatula. “Your sister is not _that_ bad,” she insisted. 

“If you say so.” 

Mom ignored that one. “She and Nick kept getting into those fights over privacy. Once Vanessa actually sat Nick down and explained to him what she meant by respecting her privacy, he was better able to do it, so they stopped fighting.” 

“Or,” I suggested, “he was better able to hide when he wasn’t respecting her privacy so she didn’t catch him at it.” I drained my juice. 

Mom sighed. “There’s that, too.” She picked up her juice and sipped it. “In any case, if Haley’s mad at you, you need to get her to tell you what’s wrong. And if she’s anything like most girls, you’ll probably need to act like the whole thing is all your fault and promise to never do it again…even if you don’t think you actually did it in the first place.” It was my turn to sigh. Mom turned back from the stove. “Are you going to join us for dinner?” 

I shook my head. “No. I’m going to go try to talk to Haley again soon. She should be home within half an hour.” 

“Then you have just enough time to set the table for me before you head over there,” Mom said. 

I grimaced. “How many?” 

She thought for a moment. “It’s a small crew tonight. Adam’s at Shane’s, but he says if Tiffany calls, I’m supposed to call him right away. Vanessa went to Charlotte’s. Margo’s still at camp, but Claire should be home soon and Mal is around somewhere.” She paused and added pepper to whatever she was cooking. “Who am I missing?” 

I thought about that. “Nick and Byron.” 

“Right. Is it Tuesday or Wednesday?” 

“It’s Tuesday.” 

“Okay, so Nick should be home. But Byron is having dinner at Jeff’s. He called it ‘family dinner’ and seemed really nervous.” Mom looked at me meaningfully. “Dinner with the parents. Big deal time.” 

I whistled. “Yeah, that’s serious.” I gathered up a stack of plates. 

“Yup,” Mom agreed. She watched as I puttered around for a moment before she spoke again. “So when you and Haley get things straightened out, I want you to bring her by for dinner one night.” I stopped and stared at her. “I told Byron the same thing before he left. We’ll pick a time when there aren’t too many siblings around—maybe next week when _Claire_ is off at camp—and you can either do two separate nights or invite them at the same time.” 

I gathered all the dishes and walked away from her. “Maybe,” I said, uncertain. 

She followed me out of the kitchen. “What’s the matter?” 

I shrugged. “I feel like inviting her to dinner is a bit like torturing her.” 

Mom shook her head. “Jordan, Haley’s eaten with us before, many times over. She’ll survive.” 

I set out silverware. “But this would be different,” I suggested. “It won’t be the same as her coming as someone’s friend. This is me declaring that I love her and consider her family.” 

Mom raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything about my phrasing. “We won’t treat her any differently, though.” 

“Weren’t you the one who just said it didn’t matter how we intended it, but how she takes it?” I said. 

Mom grinned. “You’re a smart young man.” 

I finished the table and gave Mom a peck on the cheek. “I want to catch her before she gets home. Let’s see how this conversation goes before I commit us to a Pike family dinner, okay?” 

I beat Haley to her house, but just barely. No one else was home, which was for the best. I sat down on her back stoop and waited. I occupied my mind by going over my whole history with Haley, from the moment we’d first kissed. I’d done that before at night to help me fall asleep, and it always calmed me down and gave me good dreams. I’ve never told anyone that though. I’d hate to get a reputation as a secret romantic—though I’m afraid it might be accurate. 

Haley came home only a few minutes later, before I had a chance to finish our story. I stood from the stoop as she got out of her car. This time, she didn’t seem surprised to see me. “I knew I’d find you here,” she said glumly. 

She moved toward the door and I scooted out of her way. Haley unlocked the door and went in and, for a moment, I thought she was going to slam it in my face. Instead, she held it open wordlessly and I followed her into the kitchen. 

She dropped her purse—not the big one she’d taken to Maine but a wallet on a cord—on the counter and sat down, eying me warily. I remembered what Mom had said about how her mood could be the result of a simple miscommunication and decided to get straight to the point. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you so upset, but please tell me so I can fix this.” 

I think I surprised her a bit—like she’d expected me to blame her and her crazy hormones for all our problems, whatever they might be. She quickly shifted gears. “Did By or Adam talk to you about Sunday?” she asked. 

What the fuck? What did that have to do with anything? “No,” I said slowly. “I haven’t spoken to Adam since then, and all Byron’s told me today was that we were out of toilet paper in the bathroom.” 

Haley nodded but didn’t say anything. I sat down next to her and eyed her. She looked away and bit her lip. “What is this about?” I asked again. 

She wrapped her arms around herself in another protective gesture and answered without looking at me. “What’s this I hear about you and other girls?” she asked quietly. 

“Other girls?” I was bewildered. “I haven’t even looked at another girl since I kissed you. What makes you think I have?” 

“No. I know that.” Haley finally looked over at me but I couldn’t read her expression. “I’m talking about girls you dated before me. The ones you got naked with and ‘had a good time?’” She held my gaze for longer than I was comfortable with. 

I looked away first. “What about them?” I asked, and now it was my turn to look uncomfortable. 

“How come you never mentioned them before? How come you never mentioned that you’d done that with girls before?” 

I took a deep breath. “I thought you knew,” I told her. She threw her arms up in the air and I knew she was about to go off, so I finished that thought. “I thought everyone knew. There were so many stories going around school.” It wasn’t exactly my finest moment, but I’d spent awhile in the center of the school’s rumor mill. I hadn’t minded at the time, because I was sixteen and stupid. Being “a jock” and “a stud” were two of the biggest things that make kids popular, and it was one of the easiest ways I could find to get people to notice me. It had taken me a while to realize that it wasn’t a _good_ way to get people to notice me. 

Despite the hand gestures, Haley was a lot calmer than I expected. She put her hands on the bottom of her shirt and balled it up in her left hand, then twisted it around. She only does that when she’s distressed, but it could have been much worse. Normally she’s prone to solid histrionics. “How would I know about what everyone was saying? I’ve never exactly been part of the gossip chain, have I? Who would tell me stuff? Byron? When’s the last time you heard him gossip?” She laughed unhappily. “He won’t even talk about himself that way most of the time.” 

As she spoke, I realized it was the truth. I know Byron hears a lot of gossip and stories—you can’t sit at our table at lunch and not hear a lot of bullshit about who’s doing what to whom—but I’d never heard him repeat any of those stories to anyone. I don’t think he believes half of them are true (and for a number of the guys we hang out with, most of them probably aren’t true anyway). And until we got together, I’d barely seen her hang out with anyone else. I tried to look her in the eyes, but she was looking at the hem of her shirt. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I just…” I paused and she actually looked up at me. “Those weren’t exactly my proudest moments. I don’t really like talking about it, so I guess I figured that if I presumed you knew, we’d never have to have this discussion.” 

Haley let go of her shirt. It was rumpled and wrinkled and looked like hell. She was still looking at me, though I expected her to break eye contact again any moment. “I guess I can understand that,” she said slowly, “because I have stories that I don’t like to tell either.” 

That surprised me too. Not that she had things she didn’t like to talk about—I’d already encountered one topic which she’d promised to talk about later and never had—but that she was going to be understanding about what she considered lying. That topic she never wanted to talk about involved her getting raped. I don’t blame her because I’m sure it’s a very unpleasant memory. But it also seems to me that she has a hard time trusting anyone on anything because of it. She seems to feel like I’m going to lie to her around every corner or do something to break her already fragile trust. I’d never wanted to do that to her—but I’d managed to do it anyway. “Well, we’re talking about this now. We might as well exhaust the subject. What did you want to know?” 

She raised her eyebrows. “How many?” 

I sighed. “If we’re talking about the same thing, then seven.” She cocked her head to one side. Her hair was slipping out of the rose clip and it fell in front of her eyes. Out of instinct I reached over and tucked it behind her ear. I expected her to flinch or pull away, but she didn’t. Maybe she was tougher than I thought—or maybe she was just less mad at me than she’d seemed. 

“Seven,” she repeated quietly. “Seven girls.” I nodded miserably. Haley stood up and went to the fridge, which she opened without a word. She came back and set a cola in front of me and opened her own drink. She doesn’t drink anything with caffeine after noon because she says it keeps her awake at night. Today she had a cheapo store-brand strawberry soda. 

We drank quietly for a while. I was waiting for her start up again because I wasn’t naïve enough to assume she was done interrogating. I had almost finished my drink when she finally spoke again. “Why?” she asked. 

“Why _what_?” I had no idea what she meant. 

Haley gave me the look she usually reserves for Byron when he’s being especially dense about something. She set her can down and I reached out and took her hand. She let me. “Why them?” she asked, the question she didn’t say hanging in the air. 

Guys and girls might communicate differently, like my mother says, but I understood the hidden question right away. She wanted to know why I would…in her own words, ‘get naked and have fun with’…other girls but not with her. I decided to answer that instead of what she really asked. “Haley, you’re not even ready to take your top off for me. I respect that. You told me when we first got together that we’d make all our decisions on stuff together, and so far that’s worked great for us. Those other girls,” she looked up at me, waiting for the rest of that, “they were ready for that. In fact, I had to stop some of them from going farther.” 

She pulled her hand back from mine, not fast and angry, but slowly. She placed it briefly on her forehead and then pulled it back down toward her heart, almost like she was about to say the Pledge of Allegiance. Something changed in her expression, though, but I couldn’t read her. “Well,” she said after a moment, running her fingers around the top button on her shirt, which was undone, “what if I just take my shirt off now? Then we don’t have to worry about my hang ups anymore.” She worked her fingers to the second button and started to undo it before she even stopped talking. 

I didn’t even think about it; I just reached out and stopped her. “Honey, don’t.” 

Haley looked unhappy with me. “Why not? Give me one good reason why not.” 

My hand was still on top of hers, just over her heart. “With those other girls, there was no future. I went out with them for a couple weeks or months and then we were done. I don’t want this relationship to be like that, so we have time. I want you to be sure before you do something, because you can never take that back.” 

Her body gave an involuntary shudder and I thought she was about to cry, but she just shook her head. “I may never be completely sure about anything. Some times when we’re together, I feel like I’m ready to do anything. Then a few minutes later, I’m afraid of everything.” 

I put my other arm around her and put my hand on the back of her neck. “I know,” I told her quietly. “None of this is fair to you. It’s not your fault.” 

She sniffled. “But it’s really not fair to you, either.” 

I shrugged. “I’m in for the long haul, if you’ll have me. I can put up with any ups and downs you may have.” 

Haley squeezed me back and I let go of the hug. “Are you sure about that? I worry that things may get worse as time goes on and the things I’m worrying about get bigger.” She sat back down and picked up her soda, which was still half full. “Like what if you take my pants off someday and I just flip out on you?” 

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it, okay?” 

She sighed. “Let me tell you something, Jordan. You’re the first guy I’ve so much as kissed in almost three years. The last guy I trusted was completely the wrong person. I went out with him three times and on the third one, he refused to listen to me. He held me down while I screamed and did what he wanted, not what I wanted.” I sat beside her and nodded. “I can’t really compare that to the kind of rape most people think of, because thankfully _that’s_ never happened to me. But I somehow think that this is worse. Walking down the street and being snatched is one thing but when you voluntarily get in the car with someone who treats you like that, it is so much worse.” 

I thought about that. “You feel like it is a commentary on your judgment,” I interpreted. 

She looked surprised. “Yes. Exactly.” 

“I know you’re not going to believe me,” I told her, “but that doesn’t say anything about you at all. It’s all him. You had the sense to tell him to stop when you wanted to stop. Anything that happened after that is about him being a raping son of a bitch and nothing else.” 

Haley almost smiled. “What did I do to deserve you standing up for me like this?” she asked. 

I put a hand on the side of her face. “You kissed me,” I said. She actually did smile after that. We sat like that for a moment. “Where are your parents?” I asked. 

She thought a moment. “Mom works late on Tuesdays, but Daddy should be home any minute. Before he comes home, can I tell you something?” I nodded. “When Adam first mentioned you and other girls, I was so mad at you. I thought you were a liar and a hypocrite. But I realized I couldn’t say much about it because it was _before_. I have no claim on that time.” 

“Honey,” I said, “I _am_ sorry that I didn’t mention it to you. It wasn’t fair to have it be a surprise from someone else.” She reached for my hand this time. “You might not have any claims to my past, as you say, but you can claim my present, and if you want it, you can have my future.” 

Haley had a small smile playing on her face. “And next time we’re alone together—when my dad isn’t on his way—we can see what I’m ready for now. I’ll wear this shirt again and maybe you can unbutton it for me.”

I smiled back at her. “I’d consider that an honor.” She perked up and I kissed her once, gently. 

Haley ran a hand through my hair. “Daddy’s probably bringing home a pizza. Want to stay?” 

“Extra time with you? Do you even have to ask?” She laughed. “Listen, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” I stood up and caressed her shoulder before I walked off. 

I silently climbed the stairs and quickly used the bathroom. Before I went back down I paused to straighten out the collar on my shirt. I don’t know how Byron stands to wear these stupid button downs every day. But after I got myself straightened out, I realized I was looking straight into Haley’s bedroom. 

She usually keeps the door closed, so I’d never seen it before. I couldn’t help but be a little bit nosy. I stood in the doorway and looked around. The first thing I was struck by was the fact that everything was so white. Haley’s a colorful girl—she’s loud, she wears bright shades and she’s not afraid to cuss like a dude. I would have expected the walls to be something she picked out when she was a kid—a bright raspberry pink, for example. But the walls were white, the furniture was mostly white and the bedding was pure white. There was even a stuffed lamb in the middle of her pillows that looked like she’d had it since she was a baby. It was an oasis of calm. 

The second thing was the one blank wall. Her bed lay against one wall, and a desk and window took up most of another. The third wall held a dresser and closet door. But the wall next to the door was completely devoid of furniture. It did, however, have a purpose. The words ‘Be the change you want to see in the world,’ were scrawled across it in big letters. At first I thought Haley had written on the paint until I saw a place where the surface was torn and realized it was a giant sheet of butcher paper. In various sizes and places all over the paper she’d written the kind of things you’d find on inspirational posters and greeting cards. It seemed to me that any time she’d seen a message she wanted to remember, she’d recorded it on her wall. 

I took a closer look, carefully stepping inside her door. As I was reading all the messages, I realized they weren’t all in Haley’s writing. Byron had written a few of them himself. I saw one in his handwriting that said, ‘My life is a work in progress.’ 

I wanted to add something heartwarming and uplifting to her wall, but I found I didn’t really have words that were good enough for her. I stood there for longer than I should have—if her dad caught me in her room, I’d be in trouble with both him _and_ Haley—but I really wanted to be part of that wall. I could tell in meant a lot to her. 

Finally I found a message that came straight from the heart. I picked up a Sharpie from on her desk and scrawled the message in a corner in small but readable writing. Just as I finished, I heard the back door open and Haley greeted her father. I quickly put the marker back and crept out of her room, joining the two of them in the kitchen.


End file.
